The light of a new day shone on Lawrence through the small window granted to him in his cell. His head shifted, then turned into the shadow. He slowly blinked, bringing himself out of the bliss and ignorance of dreams, and back to the pain of reality.

Reality burned.

First, the sunlight burned his eyes, the harsh glare making the world blurry for a moment. The cells of his chest burned at the realization that he no longer stood in free sunlight, but encountered a scratchy, hardwood surface that the Navy called a bed. His back was no longer whole, but broken strips of his skin and soul burned as the air invaded the red and swollen wounds. Blinking back into reality, his mind burned when he saw the cold stone wall instead of the wide, blue sea, reminding him that he was still trapped.

He didn’t allow himself to move yet; if he did, it would just emphasize the pain he already felt. Instead, he let his mind wander through the past few days, despite the trauma they would bring to the forefront of his mind.

Remington had been enjoying his new toy far too much. The man was seemingly soulless. Every scream, every twitch, or any sign of pain Lawrence gave up he seemed to fed upon. His cold eyes would alight whenever he entered the jail, and Lawrence would know that his body and sanity would be tested again. The day before, he had been blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back and lead out of the cell, then forced to walk around on his own. More than that, though, they had set it up so he walked into swords and poles. Disoriented and confused, he had even fallen down a set of stairs, only to be forced back to his feet to the sound of more laughter. Randolph, however, seemed to be absent from the ‘festivities.’

Lawrence had just decided to attempt to get up, but the creak of the jail door forced him to sit up instead. Down the stairs, boots clicked and echoed, with the addition of an extra, wooden thump. Lawrence knew exactly who his thoughts had called.

“I was wondering when you would return,” he said loudly, and the slow walk paused. Lawrence attempted a grin, but with his pain, his mouth only leaned towards the left in a small grimace. “Have you enjoyed Remington’s reports on me?”

The clunking resumed, and Randolph rounded the small spiral staircase. He still leaned on his crutch, but here was a slight difference; he no longer seemed to clutch it quite as tight or put as much weight on it. “To be honest, no,” he said, stepping in front of the door. “There are better ways to get what I want form you, but Mr. Remington has some influence with higher-ups that I didn’t feel like passing up.” He took a set of keys from his pocket and began to unlock the gate that separated the both of them. “No, I have far more influential means.”

Lawrence frowned deeper. “What are you doing?”

Randolph finished jimmying with the keys and swung the door open. “You and I are going on a little tour of the fort, Mr. Mcrage.”

“What about your guards? Where are they to protect your life?” Lawrence stepped to the threshold of the jail’s exit, but did not pass through it. “I could grab you and kill you right now, and nobody would be able to save you.”

Randolph just smiled coldly, and the ice echoed in his eyes. “But you’re smarter than that, Mr. Mcrage. If you killed me, there would be nowhere for you to run except into the unforgiving ocean – which, I’ll tell you, is many hundred meters below us – or into the noose. You may as well slit your own throat if you were to do that.” He stepped a little away from the cell door, as if inviting Lawrence out of it. “Besides, you said it yourself; that honor is saved for Katherine. Now, after you.”

Lawrence slowly stepped out of the cell, both out of caution and the screams in his muscles. He stood in front of Randolph, waiting for him to move first, but with a flourish of his hand, he motioned Lawrence forward. With extreme hesitance, he rounded the steps and walked into the fort proper.

Despite the slivers of light he had been getting the past few days, the sun still blinded him. He put a hand up to block it, and was surprised to see a scrape on the back of it. It must have come from the fall yesterday. Was he really that far gone that he was beginning to lose feeling of the simplest things?

A tap on the back of his leg brought his attention back to Randolph. He looked a little impatient as he stepped forward in front of Lawrence. “Come along, Mr. Mcrage. I have many things to show you and little time in which to do it.” He began walking across the second level they were standing on, above a small courtyard where Navy and EITC soldiers alike wandered. Lawrence turned to look at the other side, and saw with surprise the entire ocean laid out in front of him. A longing suddenly filled his heart for that freedom.

“Mr. Mcrage!” Randolph barked. Lawrence tore his gaze away from the blue waters, knowing if he didn’t comply, things would only get worse.

“You would do well to remember how to listen to orders, Mr. Mcrage. It will help you greatly while you’re involved in the service,” Randolph sniffed.

“And you would do well to remember that I have already said no, Mr. Randolph,” Lawrence replied as they began walking again.

“We’ll see, Mr. Mcrage,” Randolph murmured. He waved his hand across the scene before them. “This is the top of the fort. It mostly holds the jail and watchtowers, and occasional excess storage. We have to make sure we’re not ambushed by pirates or the Spanish or anything else of the sort.”

“Yes, and we all know how well that worked,” Lawrence snarked. A crack sounded out as Randolph brought his crutch to Lawrence’s head. He tilted dangerously to the edge of the fort, only to be pulled back by the man who had just hit him. Bright white stars turned in front of his eyes, and he rapidly blinked to try and rid his vision of them.

“You should be more careful with your balance, Mcrage,” Randolph growled. “Now keep walking, and keep your insubordinate mouth shut!” Lawrence rose to his full height, rubbing the new bump on his temple and shooting a glare at his captor, but began walking alongside him nonetheless.

The two slowly made their way down the fort, Randolph spouting a monologue the entire time. He was ridiculously proud of ‘his’ fort, as was clear by his overblown voice. All it made Lawrence do was yawn. He cared more about scrubbing barnacles off a deck than how many soldiers could shoot from the bridge at once. It was only when they were past the bridge he was more attentive.

They had entered another section of the fort, one with multiple raised platforms and a small well a few men lurked around. Upon one of the platforms perched Remington, staring coldly at those that surrounded him. The sight of him renewed fire in Lawrence’s veins. Randolph called his name, and Remington turned his head sharply. His rotten teeth were revealed in a grin when he spotted Lawrence. He bounded down the stairs of the platform with as much dignity he could muster.

“Are you in need of assistance, sir?” Remington asked, looking sinisterly at Lawrence. His brow furrowed more towards the nonverbal challenge. Remington only looked more pleased that he hadn’t broken Lawrence yet.

“I do, actually,” Randolph replied. “The both of you, follow me.” He walked brusquely towards the well, and Lawrence wondered for a moment how odd it was to bring Remington along for a drink. Instead, Randolph turned to a small building next to it. He opened the door to walk in, and Remington gleefully shoved him through it.

As Lawrence ran into the wall on the other side of the door, something rang in his mind that this place was familiar. He peeled himself away from the stone to the jingle of his keys and the creak of an iron door. Slowly, he walked down another small set of curved stairs, cautious of what he would find.

There stood Luckie, her arm grasped by Randolph and looking exhausted. Her eyes, however, shone at the sight of Lawrence, even if the rest of her looked beaten.

“Mr. Mcrage, I would like to extend to you again the offer to join the Royal Navy,” Randolph spoke.

Lawrence looked irritated by the question again. “I am only loyal to freedom,” he replied. “That is something you are unable to offer me.”

“Are you loyal to freedom, Mcrage, or to the woman who represents it for you?” Randolph argued, his voice raising. “You cling to the hope that she will appear in a puff of smoke and free you? You believe she is loyal to you in return?” He released a sarcastic laugh. “Yes, I once believed the same, and look where that got me!”

“You betrayed her!” Lawrence roared, and began charging at him, only to be struck down by Remington. That only slowed him for a moment. He leaped up again, and Remington tackled him with a punch to the chest that Lawrence tried to roll away from. The two tussled on the ground for a moment with grunts and cries of pain, only to have Randolph’s voice rise above them both.

“I’d let Mr. Remington hold you back if I was you, Mcrage!” The red haze cleared enough from Lawrence’s eyes for him to see Randolph, his crutch on the floor and standing behind Luckie with a knife to her throat. He stood quickly, preparing himself to try and help, but Randolph shuffled backwards and pressed the blade closer.

“Nah ah, there will be none of that,” he said, as if this were a business dealing or he was speaking to a disobedient child, not threatening the life of another human being.

“So she told you it was all my fault, did she?” Randolph taunted. “She told you she was left helpless and alone in that tiny jail cell for no reason at all. Well she’s a liar, and now it looks like she’s gone on to do it professionally. But no, she wasn’t innocent at all, Lawrence, not even back then. She was the one that broke our marriage vows. I suppose it’s a good thing. She finally managed to get those Sunday school morals stuck in my brain.” His head turned so that it was at Luckie’s ear. “That all women are influenced by the snake!” he hissed.

He turned back to Lawrence, who was having his hands shackled in front of him by Remington. A crazed, ferocious grin had spread across his face. “You’re not as cold blooded as most pirates, Mr. Mcrage. I can see this. Come, feel the sharpness of this blade.” Remington pulled him forward, and Randolph dragged the dagger across Lawrence’s shackled palms, making him gasp at the new blood being drawn. “You won’t let her feel that in a place far more… sensitive.” He ran the flat edge of the metal across Luckie’s neck, making her shudder. His eyes turned back to Lawrence’s. “You won’t let her die. Now say yes to my offer.”

Lawrence froze with terror and indecision. The cuts on his hands burned, like the sunlight had earlier, but he was far past feeling it. His thoughts raced from loyalty to life, and all the repercussions that could come from this moment, depending on what he chose. A soldier entered the jail, telling Randolph that the ship of new men had docked, but he screamed at the boy to leave. There was the scrape of boots moving quickly across the stone floor as the man scurried away. It all flitted at the edges of Lawrence’s attention.

“I need an answer, Mr. Mcrage! I am not a patient man!” Randolph moved the dagger just a little across Luckie’s neck, and a small bead of blood dropped from her skin onto the shining metal. The sight brought all of Lawrence’s thoughts to a screeching halt.

“Yes.” The word was a whisper, and Lawrence thought for a moment it wouldn’t even be able to be heard. Then he realized that the jail was perfectly quiet, and all the noise that had been building up was in his own head.

Randolph smiled, all traces of proper and elegant gone from him. “Good man.” He removed the dagger from Luckie’s throat and shoved her back into the open cell. The door slammed on her, and Lawrence saw her crawl to a dark corner and curl up. Her eyes had lost their glow at his answer.

“Mr. Remington, take the new soldier to be fitted for a uniform.” He approached Lawrence slowly and unlocked his shackles. “I’m sure you’ll want this back, Mr. Mcrage. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your life of service.”

Remington grabbed Lawrence’s arm and turned him roughly to go out of the jail, grumbling, most likely about his toy being taken away. When he entered the sun again, he looked down at the object that had been handed to him. The black sheath was pulled away to reveal his dagger, the one that had been taken from him upon his capture. Its beauty was tainted now; he couldn’t bear to look at what he had given up. With his head bowed, he slipped it back into its cover and into his belt, walking with Remington to start a new era.

We'll see when a new chapter comes, shall we? Thank you for reviews (as sarcastic as they are, Ms. Goldeagle), despite my completely erratic posting style. I love you guys! Thanks for reading!

Okay, so here's the plan. I'm gonna try to write as much as I can in one go, and try to post as much of it as possible all at once before the site merges. If I don't, I'll give you all a place to go to finish up the story (and I may post all previous chapters there as well). As for now, I'm about 5 pages in writing, but the problem is, there's probably at least another 50 to go to end it. We'll see how this works out.